House Vega
by Zhuulic
Summary: Not all Houses seek to destroy the City. This is the story of one such. Reviews highly appreciated. Like, seriously. I will love you forever for a good, constructive review. UPDATE:Increased rating to M for use of profanity.
1. Contact

A Fallen wire whizzed by Orri Khan's head as she ducked behind a concrete barrier, breathing heavily. The Devils hadn't attempted anything this massive since Twilight Gap, and, while this assault paled in comparison to that epic battle, she had never seen as many Fallen in one place as this.

The two other members of her Fireteam, two Titans, lay right beside her, breathing equally heavily. The assault had been going on for what felt like hours, and all three Guardians were nearing their limit.

One of the Titans yelled over the roar of the battle, "Khan! Big group of them over there! Is your Bomb ready?"

She nodded, blinking up into the air just above them, and throwing her Nova Bomb toward the group of Devils the Titan indicated. A successful hit, and at least twelve Fallen were vaporized, floating into the air as nothing more than Fallen-shaped purple mist. Twelve more filled the void, fresh and hungry for battle. Several skiffs dropped, dispensing additional Fallen and taking potshots at the Guardian's position before disappearing into the sky. Orri Khan began to feel that this may be where they died their final death.

However, as soon as the thought entered her mind, another skiff dropped, this one bearing colors she had never seen before on a skiff: black shell, red accents. The House insignia was painted along the side, as well. The skiff came to rest about ten meters behind them, and trained its guns up, sweeping over them to come to rest pointed towards the mob of Devils, where they began to fire, forcing them to take cover behind some rusted steel freight boxes. As the skiff was doing this, three Captains and about a dozen and a half Vandals, all armed with Shrapnel Launchers and Shock Blades, dropped from the skiff's hatches and...

...Charged the Devils.

The slaughter was immediate. The Devils were totally unprepared, and only the appearance of one of their Barons prevented the total collapse of the attack. The Devils attempted to rally around their leader as best they can, but these new Fallen kept the pressure on, rapid-firing their Shrapnel Launchers until Orri was sure they would overheat their weapons. The fighting continued for several intense minutes, the Captains strangely leading the onslaught instead of sending their Vandals forward in front of them, like most Captains of other houses did. These were peculiar Eliksni indeed.

Orri and her Fireteam were at a loss for words. Eventually they regained enough of their senses to try to assist these newcomers any way they could, using precision rifles to pick off powerful Devil targets, like Servitors and Reavers, eventually clearing the way for one of the Captains to get into a sword duel with the Devil Baron, which was quickly won by the former.

Despite the Devil's best efforts, their retreat was inevitable. The unknown House, despite the overwhelming odds, sustained only three casualties: two Vandals incapacitated, and one dead. The rest of the newcomers scrambled back into their skiff, leaving the Captain who fought the Baron alone with the Guardians. The Captain in question calmly walked towards the Fireteam, sheathing his blades and extinguishing his Shrapnel Launcher, despite staring down the barrels of three sniper rifles. He then put all four of his hands up and lowered his posture in a surrendering stance. Orri motioned her fellows to lower their weapons. Pleased with this reaction, the Captain unclipped something from his belt, and with his lower right arm thrust it forward, such that Orri could see that is was a Fallen data drive.

"Vyrta krakag zhun ki, zaviks nul drada Ki," the Captain said simply.

Before Orri could even ask, her Ghost was on it. "He wants you to take it. Says it's a gift from their Kell to the City."

Orri was rightly puzzled. "Since when do Fallen give gifts?"

The Captain recoiled slightly at her use of the word "Fallen", but nodded, and turned to join the rest of his crew aboard the skiff, which then disappeared into the Cosmodrome sky, leaving the Fireteam alone with the corpses of hundreds of Devils.

They stood in utter silence for a moment, until one of the Titans mustered the gumption to suggest that they "get this to the Vanguard as soon as possible." 

"So, lemme see if I got this straight-You're fighting a ton of Devils, and all of a sudden this black and red skiff drops off two dozen more Fallen which then proceed to go to town on the Devils..." Cayde's voice was dripping with disbelief.

"Precisely."

"...And after the battle, one of the Captains hands you this thing?" Caybe was tossing the data drive between his hands like a juggling ball.

Orri's Ghost interrupted,"I've scanned the contents. Only one file. A video recording. No hidden programs or viruses."

Ikora Rey, who had been silent for most of the meeting, finally spoke up. "I say we play it, and give them the benefit of the doubt. They already saved these three from certain death, I see no reason not to trust them."

"Very well, Ikora. Playing file," the Ghost replied.

From the Ghost's eye projected a square view of a Fallen Captain wearing the same black and red getup as the ones that attacked the Devils. Speaking English in the same odd way that Variks of the Reef did, it introduced itself as Frei Vel'ryata, Kell of House Vega.

What was said next, nobody was expecting.

Frei went on to tell of the Eliksni's hatred for humanity, and her thoughts behind why. She told of her House, their code, and finally, the real statement that hit each and every listener like an old freight train: _"I, as Kell of House Vega, formally declare House Vega a friend and ally of the City. We shall assist your efforts in Cosmodrome and across the Earth with the best of our ability. Assuming you watch this, you may have already seen what my House is capable of. We understand your trust is not freely given. But I and my House hope with all our hearts for peace. Perhaps through cooperation, we may reclaim our birthright within Light, and help you to reclaim your worlds. Please take my offer with serious consideration. Good-bye."_

Again, the actions of this Fallen House had left the ones who witnessed it dumbstruck. It wasn't until Orri's Ghost spoke that the silence was broken.

"My apologies, my scan appears to have been incomplete. There was one other file. A set of coordinates. They appear to lead to an area in the American Dead Zone."

Zavala now spoke. "Guardian, I don't know what these Fallen want. But I do want you to head there, and see what those coordinates lead to. Perhaps they really do want an alliance with the City. But in any case, be prepared for anything. This very well might be a grand deception."


	2. Alliance

Orri always enjoyed flying low, seeing the ground rush past only a hundred feet below at thousands of miles an hour. It was a peculiar type of adrenaline rush that even the Crucible, with all its chaos, couldn't bring. But this time, the rush was of something altogether different: apprehension. Orri Khan had not known fear during her time as a Guardian. This was a foreign feeling, one as unfamiliar as the landscape underneath. During the Golden Age, America and its cities were the prize of the Earth, a jewel of technological progress and exploration of the Light's abilities that was only just overshadowed by the Ishtar Collective and Clovis Bray. Likewise, the Collapse brought the Fallen here first, seeking to plunder the riches stored here.

They were coming up on a large city now, enveloped in dense fog, and Orri slowed her ship in order to safely maneuver through the crumbing skyscrapers. Her Ghost piped up, breaking the deafening silence of the ride: "This city was called New York. It existed before the Golden Age, and was even in that time a center of trade and commerce. Of course, the Collapse brought an end to all of that, and the Fallen have largely stripped most of the valuables from it. The coordinates lead to the center of town, likely one of those ancient skyscrapers."

The next few minutes of bobbing and weaving through the decrepit towers were done in silence, the only sound the low hum of the ship's engines.

This spell of silence was broken by something altogether more interesting. Before her Ghost could react or shout a warning, two Fallen Skiffs materialized on either side of Orri's ship, bearing the colors of House Vega: black base coat with bright red striping along the rounded "head" of the craft. They did not fire, instead merely flying alongside her ship, as if to escort it.

"Standby, incoming transmission," Ghost informed.

The comms crackled to life, and a low, raspy voice spoke, unmistakably Eliksni: "Guardian. Do not be alarmed. I am Vega Baron, called Siriks. Allow my ships to escort yours."

Ghost said, "Well, I suppose that's as good a sign as any."

The three spacecraft continued at a slower pace through the New York ruins, steadily approaching the center of the city. Eventually, they came upon a waterway littered with wreckage of boats and a few old spaceships. Crossing it, an island with even more densely packed skyscrapers appeared out if the fog, and finally the formation landed in what must have been once a park, now overgrown, surrounded by the crumbling monolithic buildings. Materializing on the soft grass, the utter desolation of the place hit Orri like a freight train, and she found herself struggling to comprehend how a civilization that had been so great,so powerful, could utterly collapse so quickly. The silence of the city was equally disconcerting, as if the ghosts of all the inhabitants were watching, paying rapt attention to the events transpiring on the lawn, looking on in silent appraisal. The very air seemed to hamper the movement of sound; despite the open area, no echoes were heard from the roaring of the ship's engines. A small band of Eliksni disembarked from the two crafts and merged together on a Captain who looked very familiar, and it wasn't until he spoke again that she realized it was the same one from the Cosmodrome, the one who handed her the data chip.

"Greetings. Welcome to House Vega territory. Come, Kell is waiting." With that, the Vandals and Dregs formed a circle around her and the Captain, and began moving towards one particularly ancient skyscraper, in surprisingly good condition for its age. Once moving, the Eliksni around her suddenly appeared on edge, sweeping shrapnel launchers, wire rifles and shock rifles alike from side to side as if anticipating an attack. The Captain was much more relaxed, however, moving in pace with Orri with long, slow strides. Coming near to the main door, Orri could make out a tarnished brass plate bearing in stylized type the name of the building over the entrance: "EMPIRE STATE BUILDING".

Upon entering, the once-agitated Vandals and Dregs became much more relaxed, and, upon a command by the Captain, scattered into the lower levels of the tower, presumably not needed anymore. She and the Captain continued in silence into a lift field situated in the center of the building, and they sped up to the top of the tower within a matter of seconds. The sight that greeted her eyes was of what must have been a throne room, with a female Captain sitting on a throne very similar to the one she saw Draksis Kell of Winter sitting on before she emptied a quad-barreled shotgun down his throat. From the way the other Vegas acted toward her, she was clearly the Kell, but she was nowhere near the size of the other Kells she had seen. In fact, she looked more the part of a Baroness. Nevertheless, she immediately noticed the pair's arrival and jumped from her perch, walking to meet them halfway to the throne. This was it.  
The Kell spoke. "Welcome, Light-Bearer, to House Vega. To my House. As you may know, I am Frei Vel'ryata. You received message, yes?"

"Yes, we did. I come here representing the Vanguard, and, in effect, the City."

Vel'ryata clasped her upper pair of hands together. "I expected as much, Guardian. I have given my name, may I hear yours?"  
"I am Orri Khan, Warlock."

"A title simple, yet implicit of great strength and power. Your acquaintance is pleasurable, Orri Khan. But, enough with trivialities and greetings, yes? You are here to negotiate. And so we shall do such.

"What I desire for my House is simple, Orri Khan, and in a way no different than what the other Houses desire: to reclaim our birthright in Light as Eliksni, no longer Fallen. However, since our Fall, we have lost our honor, and so we steal to survive. Steal from you. Long we have wished to reclaim it fully through violence, but just as long I have seen Houses shattered by your might for trying to steal that which is rightfully yours. I realized we could not win by this current path."

By this point, a congregation of Dregs, Vandals, Servitors and Captains had stopped what they were doing to watch the stranger converse with their Kell. Dregs sat on the floor, Vandals crouched behind, and Captains stood, all paying rapt attention to the conversation.  
"...So you want to try a different strategy."

"Correct. If we cannot claim our birthright through violence, then the only other way is by alliance."

"Pardon my misunderstanding, but this is strange. Eliksni have long respected the Darkness because it only yields death and destruction when it is taken from. Why this sudden change?"

"Eliksni steal from Light because it holds treasure. Dark holds only death. But Light holds only death as well, the only difference being that Light does not strike immediately. So, you see our predicament, yes? Steal from Dark, die immediately. Steal from Light, die later. Either way, death is only end result of plunder. House must survive. Eliksni must survive. To steal is not to survive."

"I understand now. One more question: why choose the Light? The Darkness holds much power as well, possibly more."

"You see not how we see. We have lived in Dark, but receive no power from it. Dark is selfish. Does not share. I have watched Guardians destroy the blackest shadow. Time and time again. You seem not to remember: Atheon, being who controlled Time itself. Crota, Hive prince, killed thousands of Guardians before. Now Oryx, blessed with vile Taking power. All, destroyed by six Guardians. A mere six! Six warriors of Light are the bane of dark gods, beings thought to be immortal and all powerful. Yet you ask why we chose Light over Dark? Your Light shines unending, and all the Dark has, all their destruction, all their death, cannot overcome it. Light is power unending. Light may fail once, but Light does not fail twice. Light learns the enemy, and strikes where he is weak with terrible and total efficiency. You cannot say you are weak and speak true! House Vega wishes to be strong. House Vega wishes for Light!"

At this, the Eliksni watching cheered(or made loud vocalizations that could be taken as cheering) their leader, jumping up and down and generally raising quite a ruckus. Vel'ryata raised her hand, and within seconds every bit of exultation had silenced. Once peace was achieved, the Kell continued.

"You see my House. They are utterly loyal to me and my cause. They want to reclaim Light as much as I do. I have deduced there is only one path to that end: alliance with City." She produced a rolled-up House banner from her back and thrust it toward the Guardian.

"Take our banner to your Vanguard, Orri Khan. Tell them it is a symbol of our respect. Respect for City. Respect for Traveler. Respect for Light. Tell them House Vega is now a friend of the City, and their ally in war. We hope to share in your Light someday. Good-bye."  
The Kell then called a party of Reavers over and instructed them to escort the Guardian back to her ship and ensure her safe passage from the city. Their leader, a battle-scarred Vandal, turned to Orri and motioned for her to follow. they each took the same lift field back down to the ground floor and walked out towards the field where she had parked her ship. She gripped the banner with both hands and boarded her ship, leaving the city with two Skiffs by her side. At the edge of the metro center, the Skiffs veered off, returning to their territory. The rest of the trip was uneventful and Orri returned to the City with the Vega banner in tow, and quite a story to tell.

Zavala was the first one to notice Orri's return.

"You've returned. What's the situation with this 'House Vega'?"

Orri unrolled the House banner that Frei Vel'ryata had placed in her possession on the table.

"What the initial message said is true. They wish for alliance with the City. They greatly respect the Light and wish for a part in it."

"And their Kell?"

"Vel'ryata spoke politely and respectfully. She made it clear her entire House wished for the same goal. If I were in a position of power, I would strongly suggest we pursue this subject. I have seen what House Vega is capable of. I watched a Vega Dreg kill a Devil Captain one-on-one in the Cosmodrome. Having an ally this powerful would make the City far stronger. Additionally, it would give us a foothold in America."

Ikora finished Orri's thought, as she often did when Warlocks testified before the Vanguard: "...And it would set a precedent throughout the Fallen world. Other Houses would see this as either a betrayal or a sign of hope."

Cayde-6 had been strangely quiet throughout, but at Ikora's words he found his stance. "The Fallen are a proud race. House Vega has ostracized itself by aligning itself with the City, and I'm certain beyond the shadow of a doubt the other Houses will view this as an act of treachery. It doesn't matter how skilled in combat they are. If all the other Houses turn against them they don't stand a lick of a chance."

Orri inwardly smirked. For once, a Hunter actually had some strategic input.

Then she spoke again. "So our choice is clear. We either pursue an alliance with House Vega and grow more powerful against the Dark together, or reject them and watch as our potential allies get annihilated by the other Houses. I cannot control what the City decides, but I will side with these Eliksni. They are not Fallen, and they have proved that."

"I don't care much for Warlocks and their musings, but this is definitely something I can get behind," Cayde concluded.

"I second Cayde's sentiment," Ikora said.

After a brief pause, Zavala finally caved. "I suppose this will have to work, Guardian. I hope you're right about this."


	3. Distress

_"_ _Allow me to be clear, human: You are no prisoner here."_

 _"So why not let us go?"_

 _"You trespassed. Encroached on our territory. Quite offensive to Eliksni, yes?"_

 _"We were more than willin' to leave, and remain so. You've no reason to keep us here._

 _Vel'ryata chuckled. "Even Hive know to walk into Vega territory is to have death wish. You come here with purpose. I intend to learn it."_

 _"...Fine. My name is-"_

 _The Kell silenced him before he could continue. "Shhh. I know who you are, Rook Townsend. Commander of Five-Oh-Eighth Brigade. Brave beyond reasonability. Extremely skilled. Word travels before subject, yes? You come seeking something. What?"_

 _Emerys huffed. He wasn't used to Fallen being so polite, or even this reasonable. Any other Kell would have shot him dead by this point. "We need supplies. Shelter. Ammo. Desperately. My men and I came to New York lookin' for exactly that. We had no idea your House was here."_

 _He fully expected Vel'ryata to cast him out at this. Fallen were not privy to the idea of sharing among other Houses, much less with humans. But the Kell again surprised him by clasping her four arms in front of her and calmly responding, "A fool does not become Kell, unless they are Blade. I am no fool, Rook. I know your true purpose here. Tell me again, this time in honesty."_

 _"...If I must. I don't like sayin' this, but the Five-Oh-Eighth is dying―our sacrifices to protect the remnants of humanity are being forgotten. And quite frankly, I don't very much appreciate seeing the deaths of men and women I knew like siblings going to waste. I heard that you wanted to portray yourself as an ally of the City and of the Light. I'm no supporter of that dead orb floating above the Last City that some worship as a god, let alone the cursed fools that it resurrects to 'protect' humanity, but I won't stand idle while the blood that I bleed and the tears I shed get washed away while I find another purpose for myself—however little it may be. So here's my 'true purpose': I intend to aid you in your struggle, but my soldiers need someone more than myself to turn to. For that, I sought out a leader worthy of their skill. If you haven't figured it out by now, that leader is you. I want to strike an alliance between your House and the Five-Oh-Eighth. New York's a big city, and I have a big army-need I say more?"_

 _"You seek an alliance. I can arrange. But I want proof of strength. Alliance with weakness spells doom for both parties. I ask a challenge of you."_

 _"Well, let's hear it. I've had a bloody long day."_

 _At this, Vel'ryata motioned to one of her attendants, and he ran over to a nearby hut to open the door. A large Vega Captain stumbled out, and was roughly shoved by the attendant into the center of the chamber. Emerys could hear the attendant cursing the Captain in Eliksni as he went, calling him all kinds of unrepeatable insults. A single final shove thrust him towards Emerys where he looked up at the human with what could only be described as utter contempt. Vel'ryata stood from her throne to address Emerys over the Captain's shoulders._

 _"This one here is why we are slow to trust other Houses. Skilled Baron. He was King once. Defected. Loathes humanity. Tried to stir unrest here. Did not work. Now disgraced, broken, and needing to be disposed of."_

 _"Why are you telling me this? I'm not going to sit as some royal execution hound-"_

 _Despite Emerys' disrespect of Vel'ryata's position, she remained calm as she replied, "Not execution. Duel. Competition for dominance. Here is challenge: Fight Baron. Lose? You leave Vega lands. Win? You take his place. Receive respect of Baron among House Vega. Along with your alliance."_

 _Emerys was speechless. He quickly regained his composure, however, and regarded the Baron, who was snarling and hissing Eliksni curses at him. No small matter, but nothing he would ever shy away from. A challenge, indeed._

 _"Frei Vel'ryata, Kell of House Vega, I accept this challenge."_

 _"Right, then. Begin!"_

 _The Baron roared, brandishing two shock blades, and charged._

* * *  
Orri's patrols were never particularly exciting, despite whatever happened. She could've been attacked by an Ascendant Hive and a Taken Zealot at the same time, annihilate them both, and feel none the better about the state of the patrol or her skill. Perhaps she was washed out? How does a Guardian get washed out? Ever since her meeting with House Vega, however, the humdrum feeling of patrols was amplified. Even the Dreadnaught, with all its secrets, couldn't satisfy her lust for combat and adventure. Every Wizard she decapitated, every Knight or Devil Captain she cut in half with her sword returned her to her meeting with Vel'ryata in the Empire State Building.

She considered it a blessing when a private transmission from the Tower came through to her Ghost on a secure channel. At last, something new! Commander Zavala was on the other end, with disturbing(and, to Orri, overwhelmingly exciting) information.

"Orri. We have developments on this Vega business."

His tone was the normal, officious one that had nearly become iconic to his persona, but his words made it clear that Zavala was out of sorts, even genuinely concerned. Despite any personal relationships, he never used a Guardian's name when addressing them. Orri was instantly at attention, partly from hearing her own name spoken by Zavala and partly in rapt anticipation for hearing more about House Vega. Life had been so very boring since then, and she relished a chance to return to New York. Orri instantly replied cheerily, "What about them, Zavala? Last I heard they were doing well for themselves."

"Not anymore. Turns out Cayde was right about the other Houses reacting to their aligning themselves with the City. Specifically, the House of Blades."

"They sound like fun. What's their issue?"

"The Blades are the antithesis of Vega. They've been around for about as long as every other Fallen House, and they are massive, easily numbering one million strong. They are foolish, unskilled, and, more importantly, utterly hateful of the Light. They are the reason that Vega cannot expand past the greater New York City area. Despite being completely tactically inferior to Vega, they have huge amounts of resources at their disposal, and have set up hundreds artillery batteries outside the city, preventing Vega from advancing very far from their current territorial lines."

"Sword-fodder. Why is this a problem?"

"In reaction to Vega's alliance with the City, they have announced plans to, and I quote, 'crush the den of traitors where they lie under a mountain of Blades and arrows.' We can only assume they intend to destroy Vega entirely. Surveillance from Guardian ships has also indicated the presence of large numbers of Devil ships within Blade territory, which means they are likely working together to bring this about."

"Sounds like the Devils want to get back at Vega for the royal beating they got."

"The Blades and Vega exist in perpetual stalemate when they're alone, but with the Devils backing the Blades, this state may end in the Blades' favor. Knowing this, Vega sent a distress signal to the City, asking for Guardian assistance. The message was highly urgent in tone. It's very clear that Vel'ryata is genuinely worried. This is where we truly make the choice, Khan. Either help them survive, or lose them forever. I'm giving you that honor."

Orri had made her choice about the matter almost as soon as Zavala had started talking. "Going back to New York. Get a Fireteam ready for me. Five Guardians. Experienced. Brief them about the whys, whats and hows. I'll be at the Tower shortly. Out."

Orri had barely closed communications with Zavala before she returned to her ship and made full speed towards the Tower, practically rubbing her hands with glee for what was about to come.

At last, a challenge!

Orri spared no time making her way into the conference hall where her teammates were waiting. Zavala had chosen wisely. Five veteran Guardians stood around the table, watching her enter. Two Hunters, two Titans, and a Warlock. Each introduced themselves:

"Drayen Harchek. Striker Titan. Armed and ready." A human male in brilliant golden armor stepped forward and saluted.

"Corvin Vayra. Defender Titan. At your service." A purple-eyed Awoken male in dark red and black plates stepped forward and gave a small bow.

"Jade Krynel. Nightstalker Hunter. Don't let my size fool you." A petite green-eyed Awoken female in Winged Sun armor rose from where she was lounging and gave a deferential nod. She couldn't have been more than five and a half feet tall.

"DRAKON-7 REPORTING FOR DUTY WHICH WAY TO ADVENTURE?!" The second Hunter, an Exo male, practically screamed his name out before bursting into a fit of laughter. Orri feigned unamusement until he continued, "Gunslinger Hunter. Jokes and bullets on me."

"Aria Frayn. Stormcaller Warlock. I am a walking Tesla coil." A small human female in flowing black and neon-blue robes rose and gave a curt salute, allowing small arcs of electricity to jump between her fingers.

"Pleased to meet you all. I am Orri Khan. Voidwalker Warlock. Zavala has made excellent choices. I assume he has briefed you all on the nature of this mission?"

"Guardian, would you expect anything less?" Zavala answered this question, allowing himself to crack a smile.

After necessary greetings were made, Orri led the group from the room and up the stairs. Here they disappeared, each dematerializing into a white-blue glow to head to their respective ships.

Frei Vel'ryata paced nervously around her chamber. She knew her distress call had reached the City, but it had been almost half a day since, and no reaction had taken place. Had the Sha'ir broken their promise? The sounds of warfare were distant, well outside the realm of danger, but they were getting closer. Columns of smoke rose in the distance, and over the crackling static of a radio signal, Eliksni and Human cries could be heard as more and more defensive lines fell - allowing the Devils and Blades to move in closer. She had trained her House well, she was sure of it. They were the best of the best and had held off the Blades for this long, a House outnumbering her own at least a hundred to one. But she knew she was fighting a losing battle. The Devils were far more vicious, as well as more skilled. The combined forces of Blades and Devils would destroy them if the City and the rest of the 508th Brigade in Iceland did not intervene. The stream of wounded and dead Vega accompanied by soldiers from the 508th returning to the Lair was steadily growing larger. If the City did not respond within a day more, they would be gone. She was sure of it.

A human, near the same height as Emerys, observed Vel'ryata looping from one end of the chamber to the other. Sensing her distress, he attempted to reassure her of Emerys' ability.

"If there's one thing I know about the boss, it's that he won't let a single soldier, be it Eliksni or human, take a step backwards so long as he sees them fit to fight."

"Which is what worries me. All these troops deemed unfit."

"He'll push our lads to victory even if it kills him. He'll push the Blades all the way back to the border and beyond. By nightfall, we'll have all the men we need to crush the bastards."

"Also worries me. Nightfall will hold nothing left to save."

"Rest easy, Ma'am-he's only got an eighth of the force out there. The rest are here, guns primed and ready for whatever the fuckers can throw at us. When he's done, forget the Blades-he's gonna go after the Devils and Kings if he feels lucky about his odds. Kell, I'm sure we nearly have them on the run. Pulling back would mean we lose all the ground we gained. Dunno where he is right now, but you can bet that Rook ain't done fighting yet."

Frei finally snapped back, annoyed by his overly cocky attitude. "You are blind, Ramsay! Can you not see what is happening? To win? One Vega Dreg kills a hundred enemy Dregs! One Vega Captain kills a hundred enemy Captains! Each member of my House single-handedly destroys Blade Walker!"

Ramsay's approach of sympathy for the Kell vanished as he near-shouted back. "And what good is a fucking statistic in a battle like this? A hundred to one you say? What good is that?! We're surrounded and cut off-yet you still maintain the premise that a ratio means everything-shit like that is what ended Terminus. Say what you will - putting faith in a ratio is a fucking idiot's way of war."

Frei remained silent. Her voice descended to a low hiss as she approached Ramsay slowly. "And you cannot run war by putting faith in one man against a million. If reinforcements not here by evening House Vega and Five-Oh-Eighth will be no more. Emerys will die. You will die. I will die. Without Guardians, without City, we are finished."

Emerys was without a doubt on the front lines, fighting with the rest of his troops. She smiled inwardly at his continued bravery in the face of certain death. If a Baron can risk his life, why not a Kell? With this thought in mind, she shouldered a shrapnel launcher and her shock blades and boarded her private skiff to head to the front lines of the battle. As she exited the room, Ramsay put his hand up to his ear, "Put me through to Prima Atoll - we're losing New York."

The battle was shaping up just as she expected. Her House was doing an admirable job of fighting for survival, but the battle was precisely that- one for survival against insurmountable odds. The Blades and Devils were making slow but steady progress through the streets, each column of Fallen spearheaded by a modified Walker with extremely thick frontal armor. House Vega had no Walkers, and their Scorch Cannons could not penetrate the Walker's hulls, instead detonating harmlessly on impact. She roared, jumping out of her skiff into the middle of her House, and began firing. Almost immediately two Fallen wires pierced her shoulder and hip, forcing her to drop her shrapnel launcher and cry out in pain. The Walker's main cannon swiveled toward the wounded Kell, charging a shot, as the Blades roared in triumph.

Then, she felt it.

A faint rumble, barely imperceptible at first, but growing in intensity every moment. Within seconds it was deafening, and culminated in a massive thunderclap from above. A single figure emerged from the clouds, enveloped in blue light, flying straight towards the Walker. The Blades, also privy to the sound, looked up in confusion to see the blue-white streak hurtling down towards their advance tool with deadly intent.

They only had time to cry out in shock before the form of a gold-clad Titan slammed into the head of the Walker, breaking the sound barrier midway through the buildings and shearing straight through the armor, destroying it immediately and sending Blades careening into buildings from the resulting explosion. Immediately following the destruction of the Walker, five more Guardian ships descended from the clouds, making a single pass over the battlefield and releasing their respective pilots onto the street in varying places. Another Titan, clad in black and red plates, hit the ground right in front of Vel'ryata, throwing his hands to his sides and casting out a bubble-like shield of swirling purple energy around the two. This new Titan turned his head to acknowledge Frei's presence before beckoning the remaining Vega Eliksni present inside.

Within the bubble, Vel'ryata felt… odd. Any semblance of pain from her wounds was gone, in fact the wounds themselves were gone as well. Within a few seconds, she felt better than she had in years, almost...supercharged. She returned to her feet, roaring in triumph, and charged out of the bubble towards the Blades, whom were still in disarray from the loss of their Walker. The rest of the Vega at this particular front followed. Before they could reach the encroaching Eliksni, three bolts of purple Light flew from behind her, two striking ground. The other struck a Devil Captain, who screamed in pain as the arrow-like bolt generated a localized black hole inside him, causing the Captain to literally collapse into himself, and then detonate in a small blast, sending beams of what looked like ropes of Light towards surrounding Blades which coiled and twisted around them, obviously causing great discomfort. A familiar figure barreled past her, a crackling blue sword in hand, and delved straight into the chaos of the sudden halt of the Blade advance, slashing left and right, laughing hysterically as she severed limbs and heads from bodies, often slicing Blades completely in half. Sniper rifle shots rained from the rooftops, cutting down more powerful Blades and Devils as the Warlock Frei now recognized as Orri Khan spun, flipped, slashed, sliced, and crushed Fallen beneath the edge of her sword, boots, and occasionally even her fists, a feat she had only ever witnessed a Titan accomplish.

Beneath the Guardian surprise attack the advance column shattered quickly, Blades and Devils retreating in haste. The Vega roared in triumph and started to charge after, but Vel'ryata held them back. She gathered the living around her, and said in Eliksni, "Light is strong! Living proof! Return to Lair, my children, and execute the Wire Strategy."

Earlier in the year, Vel'ryata, in anticipation that something like this would happen, trained her entire House in wire rifle marksmanship. Eventually even the Dregs were able to hit targets across Long Island. One thing that House Vega had very, very many of was wire rifles, nearly two for every member. The so-called "Wire Strategy" executed as such: In the event of such a situation as was happening now, the entirety of House Vega would return to Long Island and take up positions along the shore, within buildings, and in makeshift guard towers along the sound, each armed with a wire rifle with a high power scope, a deadeye aim, and Servitor-powered latent-charge reactors which could supply an effectively limitless amount of ammunition for the rifles. The second prong of the Wire Strategy was executed on the way back to Long Island: all bridges to or from Long Island except for the Brooklyn Bridge were collapsed. Every Dreg, Captain, Vandal, human, and Guardian would train their weapons towards the remaining bridge. As the Blades would advance within range, funneling onto the bridge, they would come under a hail of wires from along the island. To avoid casualties the Blades would have to either bombard the island for days or pull out. Vel'ryata knew the latter option was an impossibility. Despite being weak, the Blades were quite stubborn, and with Devil assistance they were vicious. They would willingly sustain the casualties if it meant they could destroy House Vega and the humans.

The plan was being executed perfectly. Despite Ramsay's original qualms about cutting themselves off from any chance of escape by ground, after seeing a Dreg hit a road sign across the sound with a wire rifle he was feeling a bit more confident in Vega's marksmanship abilities. The presence of six Guardians also greatly assuaged his concern. Even through his contempt for the City, he recognized the term "immortal warrior of Light" was by no means a boast. All bridges were collapsed except the Brooklyn and everyone had the precision weapons required, even three of the Guardians (Drayen, Drakon-7 and Orri) had forgone their own sniper rifles to use wire rifles, in order to better relate to their newfound Fallen allies. The rumble and dust cloud of the Blade advance had been growing steadily closer. Jade Krynel, whose size and speed made her an expert scout and infiltrator, eventually returned from the mainland after observing the Blades.  
"They think we're still everywhere. The advance is moving slowly for fear of another Guardian sneak attack. Harchek, that Fist of Havoc from the sky? Genius. Scared the living hell out of 'em."

The gold-plated Titan chuckled before responding, "T'is my specialty. Very rare I get to do that, my Ghost hates it."

Jade also laughed lightly before turning to Orri. "Orri, I didn't see what you did after I fired my Shadowshot, but I do know you had a sword, and that they now think you're a demon from the deepest pits of hell. I often wonder the same thing, whether you're really a Warlock or a disgruntled Hive Princess wearing an Awoken's skin."

"I am an Awoken Warlock, I can assure you. But I may have picked a few things up from a Knight and a Wizard somewhere." Orri's yellow eyes seemed to glow as she said this.

Jade smirked at the none-too-subtle mention of Orri's time as a prisoner of the Hive. She then turned to face Ramsay, who had joined the preparations for the battle in an attempt to rally more troops to his side and further motivate them. "Ramsay, I have to say, you have guts for trying this, and skill for actually pulling it off. I'll make sure at least Cayde knows about you, Emerys, your men, and all you've done. Hunter to fellow Hunter's promise."

"No. No disrespect intended, Guardian, but I won't have the order that left me to die sniffing about our business, thank you for the offer though. I might trust you, but Rook will be much harder to convince - he's had a hard time dealing with the Vanguard and the Guardians as a whole. The last thing he'd want to know is that any of you had a part in this - believe me."

"Good luck with that," Drakon-7 interrupted. "Anyone within miles of Harchek would have heard that sonic boom,"

Jade turned to Drakon, who had been unusually quiet during this whole conversation. "Say, Drakon, I didn't see you much on the battlefield - what were you doing?"

"Oh, uh, you know, shooting things."

"Funny. Would 'things', in this case, mean dice?"

"WHAT? No! I was shooting aliens. In the face. With...bullets. Yeah. Bullets. Made of dice."

"Pffft, whatever. Anyways, Drakon's right - that blast would have been heard throughout the city."

"Same thing can be said for our artillery. Rook is either dead or deep in enemy territory on the mainland - last I heard he was leading a platoon of his commandos across the water to take out the Blades' primary artillery battery. Jester was leading an armored line towards that same position."

"Jester?"

"Kye Jester - the commander of the Heavy Infantry and the mechanized/armored division. Rook commands the commandos and specialized infantry - demolition jobs and force recon mostly - and I command the light infantry and the reserves. There's Tarquin as well - one of the few former Warlocks that is here with us. He commands the air force, but he's at Prima Atoll right now."

"I'll tell him that we got lucky - a few of our snipers relocated and I sent a platoon in to clear up the mess. If you're going to leave you should do it now - knowing the boss he'll be back within the hour. If not, he's either dead or too carried away with kicking the Blades' arses to care about coming back."

"Snipers and a platoon don't put Titan-sized holes in heavily-armored Walkers."

"No, but 250mm impact shells fired from an Archer Artillery Gun do. Seen it myself - 17 Walkers went down with just 5 cluster shells fired from one of our artillery guns on the top of one of the skyscrapers. I'll just say we loaded one of the rounds into a close-range cannon and blew it's hull apart, THEN sent in the platoon as the cannon reloaded - explains why the infantry weren't literally incinerated by the sheer force of the round."

"...Close enough."

Orri was not keen on the idea of leaving at all. "No. I have waited too long for a development here. I would have killed Oryx again if it meant I could return. Now, I'm here, and you ask me to leave? With all due respect, Ramsay, but that's bullshit. I care not whether they leave," she snapped, indicating the other five Guardians around her, "...But you will not see my departure until these Fallen are Eliksni again."

There was silence in the yard underneath the skyscraper, before somebody spoke out again. "Is that not what we fought so long to achieve?"

The party turned to see a battered, bruised and blood-covered Emerys, clutching his rifle, it's barrel red-hot from overheating. His face was cut and bruised, his eyes were bloodshot and his nose leaked blood like a river from both nostrils. Standing behind him was Jester and numerous commandos, also suffering massive amounts of wounding and battle fatigue. His face was less scarred and more covered in dirt and smoke after clambering from the remnants of his Berserker Tank's chassis and beating a Blade Baron to death with his bare hands.

"Welp, so much for not telling him," Drakon mused.

"Aside from the fact that I'm not a fan of Guardians, I'd say today was a job well done, Ramsay. Return to the artillery nests, I'll take over down here..."


	4. War

_Quick as a flash, Emerys drew his short sword, and raised it in a block just before the two much longer blades came crashing down on his forehead. Metal clashed upon metal, the sound reverberating throughout the chamber. The Baron roared again, his spittle flying into Emerys' face due to a significant lack of an Ether mask, pressing further into the parry, attempting to break his guard with sheer force. Emerys let the guard fall, sidestepping the blades at they slashed thin air, before slamming his elbow into the Baron's back, using the forward momentum of the brute to knock him to the ground. He attempted to follow through for a quick kill with a downward stab into the Baron's heart, but the Baron rolled off, narrowly escaping injury before springing to his feet, reverting the duel to its beginning state._

 _The Baron, still quite cocky, charged again, leaping through the air in an effort to end Emerys once and for all, and retain his own life. Emerys narrowly dodged it, rolling backwards as the blades crashed into the floor in front of him, losing his own sword in the process. Despite being within arms reach of him, Emerys diverted all his attention to the Baron, rather than picking up his own blade. The Baron charged, slashing his blades leftward as Emerys barely dodged them and thwacked the Baron across the face with his fist, effectively knocking a few of the Baron's teeth out. What Emerys failed to notice was the Baron's lower pair of arms crashing right into his ribcage, effectively knocking him back as he spat out blood whilst the Baron laughed. Wiping his mouth, he narrowly dodged a follow-up slash from the Baron, and then, seizing the opportunity that the Baron so graciously presented, coiled his arm around the Baron's outstretched own, and twisted, causing the him to cry out in pain and drop the blade. In response, Emerys went for the blade, only to be kicked across the room as he landed in a surprisingly bloody heap on the floor as the Baron pushed its upper right arm back into position and took up his other blade, before heading over to Emerys, who lay motionless on the floor, before he picked himself up, his face bloody and bruised as he stared the Baron down. Suddenly he vocalised something like a roar as he charged the Baron, revealing his sword which he'd stealthily taken off the floor and jabbing it into the Baron's back as it came out the other side, tackling the blades out of his hands and landing on top of him as punch after punch landed upon the Baron's face. The Fallen sputtered, unprepared for this sudden onslaught, desperately trying to get an arm in front of his face to try to block some of the strikes. Suddenly a sharp pain ran up Emerys spine as he ceased his punches, reaching for his back as the Baron jammed a shock dagger right into it. A second dagger landed right in his chest, narrowly missing his heart. The Baron quickly took to his feet, grabbing Emerys face with both hands and drawing his face closer to the sword that had been stuck through the Baron's chest. As Emerys' teeth made contact with the point of the blade, he landed a strong punch right in the Baron's upper right arm, breaking it for a second time and giving Emerys the chance to literally pull the sword out of the Baron's chest with his own teeth. Emerys collapsed the the floor with his sword in his mouth, barely able to keep himself from collapsing as the Baron recovered surprisingly quickly. Emerys took to his feet again, but this time there was no remorse, no pity, only complete madness as he smacked, punched, kicked and battered the Baron left right and center, before finally putting him in a position to finish the fight as the Baron collapsed to his knees, with Emerys' sword at his neck. Rather than take the kill, Emerys instead began to notice something about the Baron, something more reminiscent of a memory than a new foe. With his blade still against the Baron's neck, he undid the latches on the Baron's helmet, allowing it to fall off to reveal a familiar, broken face…_

 _"Cyrus?"_

"How bad did it get, Vel'ryata? How many did you lose?" Emerys said, throwing the slung rifle on his back as he snapped his right wrist back into position.  
"One thousand three hundred and eighty nine. About half our battle-worthy."  
"Damn it. And all of those are dead?"  
"Not all, but won't be fighting for a while."  
"Fuck. Watley–get a few of the lads from the reserve together to replace the Vega casualties. Be quick about it!" Emerys shouted to one of the human soldiers behind him, who shouldered his weapon and sprinted down the street before turning a corner and disappearing from sight.

Drakon-7 made yet another revolutionary observation. "Hey, uh, Emerys, right? Yeah, I'm not an expert in field medicine, but I'm pretty sure you and your men need medical attention. Just a little suggestion, eh?"

Frei answered for him. "He has seen worse. Suffered worse. We have history. I will see to his recovery." The Kell called a High Servitor to her side. "Servitor Haliks-Ten! Assess-and-repair."

"There's a ginger lad back there that needs his leg fixed and a few Dregs that took some damage from artillery–I can handle myself just fine."

"Haliks-Ten has directive. Will carry out. As for your men, I now have better treatment option. Titan, Corvin Vayra! Kell addresses you."

The red-and-black Titan looked up from where he was staring off over the sound to look the Kell straight in the eyes and said, "Titan Corvin Vayra answers. What is it?"

"You saved my life. Healed wounds. Nulled pain. Mine and my Houses', with swirling purple shield. Energized me in way I haven't been in years. Share the power with them, yes? Show them power of Light. Benevolence of Light."

As Corvin fixed up the soldiers, the Servitor attempted to heal Emerys' wounds, which he refused, going so far as to use insulation tape to close the gaping wounds in his arms and patch his facial cuts shut without anaesthetic. He quickly loaded a drum magazine into his rifle after grunting and groaning through the improvised healing, then stood up and put his helmet back on, it's vibrant blue visor glowing as Emerys clambered atop a damaged, but still functional tank. As the remnants of the 508th's New York forces gathered around him–9,598 men, women and Eliksni–he began to call for their attention.

"The Devils and Blades are no doubt making plans to attempt one final push on Long Island before nightfall. They will send everything they have at us until we drop dead. That is why I have ordered our Heavy Ordnance Satellite to fire a tier 3 fissure warhead at the Fallen's hardpoint in Jersey City, but the warhead won't hit the city until midnight–that's seven hours away, people! And the rest of the Fallen counterattacking forces will make it to the bridge in less than one. We need to hold the bridge long enough for the warhead's impact to actually make a difference. Squad leaders, rally on me in the war room inside the Empire State Building, troops standby for further orders. Stand forever, my brothers!" Emerys shouted as the soldiers below him cheered before forming into their respective teams, who then loitered in the streets and waited for their expected commands. Orri and Vel'ryata joined the crowded war room, edging their way through the mass of officers and veterans before reaching a map of New York, lit only by the chemlights that were placed on the table. "We can place several platoons here if we cross over–those ruined skyrise flats should provide good overwatch for the armored columns as they move up, might be a good place to set up anti-tank crews."

"A possibility, if we were actually trying to retake the remnants of the mainland's frontier without it being bombarded. We can't risk sending the last of our armored sections into enemy territory in the event that the fissure warhead doesn't work–they'd be completely decimated. Lieutenant Ivanovich and Vandal Drachen, you will take your teams and flank to the North, then push inward towards the Devil artillery nests. Lieutenant Baczkowski, you'll back them up in reserve." Emerys said, directing the command to a pair of human commanders and a former Vega Vandal. "Jester, take a mechanized platoon of Hounds, travel to the old chapel to the South-East of the nest and kill your engines when you get there. Orri–your fireteam will merge with the remnants of the infantry and hold the bridge while the advance proceeds and I'll lead my team to the remnants of our hardpoint in the skyrise flats. For those who are heading across the bridge, when you see a bright red flare in the sky, that will be your signal to attack." Orri was curious–Emerys appeared to have all the numbers to take the Fallen artillery nests and beyond if he wanted to, why wait until after the bridge attack and nightfall to retaliate? From what little she had seen of him, he was definitely in the right mindset for winning the war with minimum casualties to both House Vega and the 508th, and he definitely wasn't suited for the typical desk job that the Vanguards were more suited to.

She was slow to notice it, but Orri gradually began to see something in Emerys that seemed almost too good to be true–his calm, but focused approach on everything was like a mask, concealing some unknown quality in him that was little known to the people around him. Or was it? Either way–now was not the time to start having doubts about a man she literally just met and knew next-to-nothing about.

Frei finally spoke up after observing Emerys devising his battle plan "And House Vega? We shall aid you, yes?"

"No–you'll stay back at the city on defense - you've done more than enough and you nearly ended up losing entirely, I can't risk losing the rest of House Vega's forces over a few thousand Fallen and a single artillery nest. We'll take it from here, Kell. Moving on–5th and 6th companies - I need your infantry grouped with the 3rd mechanized section, you'll lead the counterattack against the Fallen after the Wire Strategy has been initiated. Following this I'll need two of our Archer Guns repositioned to the North, and a regular patrol of medical and repair trucks circulating the city–there's still a lot of outposts that haven't reported in after they got hit by the Blades artillery. Lieutenant Morey, you'll head on that front–take as many men as you need." Emerys said, listing numerous tasks seemingly endlessly before dismissing the briefing and heading outside, along with everyone in the war room.

Emerys left the building and leaned against the wall outside. Orri approached Emerys as he lit a single cigarette with a zippo lighter that was engraved with a crow, before taking a single puff from it and exhaling the smoke, sighing heavily as he wiped his forehead of the blood, dirt and sweat.

"Emerys - your real name is Rook, isn't it?"

"No, my real name is Ruairidh, but my parents called me 'Rook' more often."

"Why was that?"

"There was abundant population of crows, jackdaws and rooks on the island where I was born. They decided to nickname me Rook because it was often used to refer to young children, and I seemed to respond better to that anyway. Even got a tattoo of it on my neck." Emerys said, pulling down on his cloak's neck lining and tilting his head to the left, revealing the tattoo of a rook, laughing in a very maniacal way, whilst clasping six cards in its right talon. "It looks really similar to the one on your shoulder armor–same design?"

"Exactly the same."

"Why do people call you Emerys then, if your 'name' is Rook?" Emerys took a few seconds to reply, but when he did Orri noticed his dramatic change in tone. "One day, when I know you better, Warlock, when I trust you and when all this fighting is over, I'll tell you why I called myself Emerys, and what that cursed name really means." he said, almost threateningly, as he practically shoved the cigarette back in his mouth and walked away.

Orri was hardly shocked by Emerys' minor outburst, but she was definitely confused as to why he was angered by her taking interest in his nickname–one that was apparently more of a curse than a reference to himself. Aside from this, Orri was complacent, yet still curious as to what a human-Eliksni army was doing in New York, let alone why they had never been mentioned by the Vanguard to her. Why had they formed with House Vega? What was their ultimate goal? And why were their leaders so hostile towards the Guardians and the Vanguard? She resolved to consult the Tower Archives when this was over. She refused to allow the 508th Brigade to remain a mystery to her-to do so would violate every fabric of her being as a Warlock. Zavala made no mention during the mission briefing of an army of humans and Eliksni who were so well-trained and well-equipped as this. It was impossible to assume he didn't know about the 508th, which meant that, for whatever reason, their existence was being concealed by the Vanguard.

But enough of conspiracy theories–all she cared about currently was that night was coming, and the next dawn would be very far away.

As the sun began to set on the horizon–right on the hills that marked what Orri suspected would be the new front line now that the Fallen had been beaten back, if only temporarily, Orri began to question their odds. The Wire Strategy that Vel'ryata had used was effective, but only enough to keep the Devils and Blades from attacking via the bridge - they had hundreds, if not thousands of skiffs at their disposal.

That being said, she had been told by Vel'ryata the 508th had dozens of heavily armoured anti-aircraft batteries in the form of their Berserker tanks, only rather than a single 158mm cannon like the regular tanks, the modified vehicles packed four 60mm rapid-fire cannons, but usually remained stationary on the streets or simply had the turret removed from the vehicle's chassis and placed on a rotating swivel, usually on the top of a skyscraper of building. If that wasn't enough, there were countless SAM teams stationed inside buildings and well-concealed from view until they opened fire–which rarely needed to happen now, following a blitz in which the 508th and House Vega nearly entirely wiped out the Blades' ships after they attempted an airborne attack - indicative of the utter foolishness and cockiness the Blades held. This left the Fallen with one option–risk crossing the bridge. However, unknown to Orri, Emerys didn't intend on sitting back and waiting for the Fallen to come to them now that the commandos had secured a decent hardpoint so that both Vega and Brigade forces could advance back into their own territory–he intended to send the Fallen a message, which he made abundantly clear after decapitating the Blade Baron that led the Fallen forces across the bridge and mounting his head on a spike.

Despite objection from him, Orri decided she would tag along with Emerys on his mission to hold the bridge from another assault by the Blades and Devils, not just to learn more about him, but to see if the countless rumors she'd heard about him were factual. Though not many humans spoke openly about him–either feeling uncomfortable speaking to a Guardian or simply not concerned, plenty of Eliksni–both Vega and 508th–had a lot to say about him. Apparently he had butchered almost an entire Fallen House as an act of vengeance for the death of his companion Rickon–a tamed wolf, and refused to kill Fallen Dregs in unfair conditions as he saw them as being more noble than the scum that commanded them, resorting to wounding or detaining them rather than killing them whenever he could. This was apparently part of a learning curve of "knowing your enemy" that Emerys had developed over the years, as he saw it more effective to claim leadership or earn the respect of Fallen Houses that caused problems, rather than slaughtering them whole. Such a tactic had paid off–the mass numbers of Eliksni that swelled the 508th's ranks–over 70,000 strong–had helped develop relations between the Brigade and House Vega, despite Vel'ryata's concerns about Emerys willingly turning would-be prisoners into members of his own military following the extraction of the information they had to offer.

At the remnants of a Berserker tank Orri loaded her MIDA Multi-Tool with a fresh magazine whilst the other Guardians tooled up. Emerys and his team–two elite Dregs with rapid-fire variants of the "Does Not Bow" auto-rifle, a former Vega Baron that was detailed from head to toe with decals all over his armor and a human commando wielding a heavy machine gun that was fed from a large canister on the commando's waist - were also loading up on ammunition. The commando wore Titan armor and a bear-fur mark–indicating he was previously in the heavy infantry–were already prepared to move ahead as the sun disappeared beyond the hills, leaving only a misty, red wasteland behind.

The two Titans had made themselves a machine gun emplacement at the island end of the bridge, setting up with at least twenty crates of ammo, and belts which connected the guns directly to the crates. Between them sat a third, massive MG–A Type-45 "Against All Odds" variant, built for sustained, automatic fire of what may as well have been sniper rounds(and a scope to match) also hooked into it's own ammo crates. This entire setup sat in the dead center of the bridge, about fifty feet from the island side. Harchek and Vayra each made themselves comfortable at their own guns, motioning for the particularly burly Baron to take the third, who did so with a somewhat grim satisfaction, looking the weapon all over with hungry eyes, before looking over to Emerys who nodded, "Suits you." The Baron hunkered down at his gun and peered through the scope. Emerys retired from resting on the chassis of the ruined tank and took control of his rifle, making his way over to Orri as she looked across the bridge, seeing barely anything due to the immense amount of fog that clouded the bridge. Emerys took off his helmet, hooking it to one of the clips on his belt. "Wait until you hear the Walker–that's how you'll know they're here."

"How did you figure that out?"

"They always send the Walkers ahead with the infantry trailing behind–no point sending in all the supporting infantry and risk the Walker getting taken out on it's own. It's like a shield to the rest of the Fallen advance–you need to break the shield to take out the soft flesh behind it. That's what Shaxx taught me–and it works pretty well."

"There's eight of us, and easily thousands of them. Hope you know what you're getting yourself into."

"I've won battles with worse odds–myself, Ramsay and Cayde took out about one thousand Fallen Devils during one of the more covert strikes we conducted–"

"You fought alongside Cayde-Six?" Orri said loudly, forgetting they were meant to be playing a stealthy waiting game. "Keep yer' fuckin' voice down–an' aye–I did. Me, Ramsay and Cayde were pretty good together. Until he joined the Vanguard anyway–after that I could tell he was losing his touch–more used to making sarcastic jokes about wanting to get back out in the field rather than actually doing anything. One day he basically told me that I was better off "letting the professionals do the job", as if I was some fucking schoolkid. After that I didn't want to have anything to do with him. Cheeky Mech bastard still owes me a hell of alot of glimmer from when I beat him in the Crucible."

"I'll make a point to remind him of that."

Emerys laughed humorlessly and sarcastically before replying, "Tell 'im to get his lazy arse out of the Tower, as well. It'd be good to see him actually fighting again," before pulling out another cigarette and lighting it, offering one to Orri, who declined. Suddenly Emerys threw the cigarette from his mouth and took hold of his rifle, his head rotating slowly from right to left as he placed a hand in front of Orri, motioning for her to get into position. She did so quickly, but quietly, whilst both Corvin and Harchek began to sight themselves up in prone, whilst the Baron strapped one of the ammunition craters to his waist and tore the gun from it's bipod as he took cover behind the ruined tank chassis. The commando and one of the Dregs also moved behind cover as a faint rumbling sound became present. Immediately, Emerys grabbed Orri by the arm and pulled her behind the tank as the other Dreg moved over to them. "Drada goden. Drahbo kir," Emerys said in Eliksni to the Dreg as he patted his shoulder. The Dreg simply nodded, loading a single magazine of ammunition into his rifle as the rumble got louder and more intense. Emerys put his hood up, leaning just round the corner of the tank, before leaning back. "Can't see anything. Orri–you take a look."

Orri glanced around the corner, peering through the scope of a massive bone-encrusted sniper rifle that glowed a sickly green in some places. Emerys had been informed of her connection to the Hive, but to see a physical representation of it was entirely different. The rifle seemed to speak to him, whispering two words, over and over, voices upon voices: black spindle. Orri seemed unfazed by the rifle's whisperings, but Emerys was truly unnerved. He had seen the Hive, fought them, knew about their power to corrupt even the brightest Guardians. But to instill that same dark power into a weapon? He never would have imagined it possible, but here it was. It seemed almost...alive.

What Orri saw was a single heavily armored Fallen Walker, escorted by about 550-900 Fallen in a single column, swarming to it's sides and behind it as well. Definitely harder than the occasional Noble Walker encounter in the Cosmodrome. The Blades were clearly desperate for a victory, as they'd sent more Fallen over the bridge than by any other route they could've used before, hoping that higher numbers in one area would mean a higher chance of capturing Long Island.

Thankfully, Emerys knew Blade tactics–when all is lost and you become outnumbered, flee and preserve your own life. However, the presence of several Devils made this less likely to happen, as the Devils would likely kill any Blades that attempted retreat. As such, Emerys knew exactly what to do in order to completely demoralize them and prevent another motivated attack.

The Fallen column grew closer–less than 300 meters away now, when suddenly a single shot fell from the sky, right on the head of one of the Fallen Devil Captains leading the advance. High above them, in a ruined skyscraper, Ramsay fired a second shot from his Ice Breaker as the Fallen below him scattered and panicked. He then grabbed a rocket launcher and fired a single shot, which exploded midair in the space between two of the Walker's legs, destroying them and immobilizing the Walker, if only temporarily.

Orri swung out of cover, using the weight of the sniper rifle like a fulcrum, planting the barrel on a metal outcropping on the side of the tank. She peered through the scope, aimed and squeezed the trigger. The muzzle flash was as large as Orri herself, and the bullet left a visible orange-black vapor trail along its path. And then there was the report. There was not a sharp crack, as with most rifles Emerys had seen. The crack was replaced by a low, thunderous, soul-shaking boom, a sound which reverberated through Emerys' bones, the tank, and the surrounding buildings. The force of the muzzle flash threw dust up around her form and uprooted a few unlucky sprigs of grass in the wake of the blast. It was like standing next to artillery without hearing protection. The effect of the single shot was immediate. The round ripped through another leg of the Walker, shearing straight through a joint and effectively severing the leg at that point. Whatever the Hive had done to this rifle, even its fearsome appearance belied the raw power inside it.

Orri fired again and again and again, each round piercing the Walker or a Fallen's head. She never reloaded, throwing almost 20 rounds downrange before finally running out of ammo, throwing the rifle on the ground, drawing her sword, and walking out of cover. The Walker was at this point sufficiently angered by the immobilization that it swiveled its main cannon towards Orri, charging a shot.

Emerys shouted, "ORRI! ARE YOU FUCKIN' STUPID!? GET BACK HERE!"

Orri stood her ground, the laser leveled straight at her chest, and as the Walker fired, she brought her sword up into a defensive stance. The round hit her directly, detonating and throwing up a cloud of smoke around her form, completely obscuring it from view. Emerys silenced himself from cursing her boldness, only looking to the ground before raising his head again. As the dust cleared, Orri was still standing, holding her sword in the same defensive stance, a blue-white shield of Arc energy radiating from the blade. Orri was completely unharmed.

Emerys laughed. "Fuck's sake, forgot those buggers were untouchable..."

As the Fallen cried out orders and scattered all around the Walker, Emerys rose to his feet, clutching to the tank's chassis as he prepared to vault over it. "The Walkers still down! I'm gonna go for it–STAND YER GROUND!" he barked as the order was repeated among all but the Guardians. A single Blade Vandal emerged from the smoke and fired several shots from its shock rifle, to which Emerys retaliated by dodging the shots, firing a short burst in return which cut the lone Blade down. Within seconds, the entire Fallen column charged the position, guns blazing as Emerys and his team huddled together, covering one another in a continuous rate of fire as Orri and the Titans unleashed pure havoc with their arsenal.

The human commando called out for the Dreg to move forward, standing up in full sight of the Fallen Walker as they sprinted forward before collapsing into prone, firing hard and fast as Emerys and the other Dreg got ready to move. "MOVE UP!" the commando called out. Emerys didn't hesitate as he and the Dreg instantly took to their feet and–in a suicidal act of bravery that Orri hadn't witnessed before in her life–sprinted past the other pair as the weakened Walker let off a single shot that landed just behind them, missing both them and the others. Orri shrugged, procuring her MIDA as she followed behind the advancing team, taking out every target that fell within line of sight of her petite scout rifle. Harchek and Corvin's guns gave out a horrific rattle that caused Vandals to flee as round after round found their way into the body of a Blade or Devil. "RAPID FIRE! RAPID FIRE!" Emerys cried as he and the Dreg went prone before firing as fast as they could whilst Orri and the Baron sprinted past the commando and the other Dreg, heading past Emerys and dropping to the floor again, Orri picking off whatever Fallen she could, whilst the Baron hipfired the HMG into the densest portions of the advance, the high-caliber weapon firing slowly, but punctuating the fray with thunderous cracks of its report. The weapon was clearly not designed for suppression, but the presence of large amounts of ammunition enabled sustained fire of bullets large enough to cut a Dreg in half. As the commando moved up, a single well-placed wire shot found it's way into his left shoulder, dislocating it as he roared in pain, before he pulled his helmet off and–with one arm–picked up his gun, charging forward as the Dreg followed him. Eventually Corvin and Harchek moved forward as well, before all eight of them regrouped. Emerys, the wounded commando, the Baron and the Dregs charged at the Fallen Walker as its infantry support fled, whilst Orri and the Titans followed closely behind. The Walker–unable to target Emerys and the team due to how close they were–trained it's minigun on the unsuspecting Emerys, whirring rapidly as it charged its shots. Suddenly the Baron–who had gotten close enough to attack it–smashed the minigun in two with the butt of his gun, wielding it like a bat as he smashed the Walker's minigun apart. Emerys signalled to his Dreg, who pulled out what looked like a cluster of shock grenades and explosive satchels, handing them to Emerys as the Dreg covered him with suppressive fire.

As the Walker's core overheated and exposed itself, Emerys rammed the makeshift explosive device into a small wedge that had been blown out of the Walker's core, before sprinting back the way he came, diving over a wrecked car not far from the walker and pressing his back against it as the others followed behind him. Orri and Harchek followed closely, taking cover much closer to the Walker, whilst Corvin helped the injured commando behind the ruins of an overturned truck. The Walker's core slammed shut, attempting to reactivate itself, and shortly imploded, sending shrapnel and fire everywhere as the Fallen behind it were cut down.

Emerys and Orri rose from their cover, before slowly moving in as their teams followed behind them. Emerys stopped in his tracks and knelt down, signalling the wounded commando to move up and secure the remnants of the Walker. The commando looked left and right, scouring the remnants of the Walker for survivors, finding nothing. "Nothing here, sir–must be all dea–" the commando was cut short as a single shock blade went through his abdomen. All weapons were trained on the mysterious figure behind the commando as he was suddenly lifted into the air, choking on his own blood as he was then thrown back down to the ground. Emerging from the smoke wall in front of them, the killer was revealed as a Devil Baron de-cloaked and rammed it's other shock blade through the commando's back as he attempted to crawl away. Wasting no time, the Baron ripped the blades from the commando's back and charged Emerys, ramming his shoulder into the smaller human's chest, knocking him over. Emerys scrambled to get up, the Baron approaching with purpose, pinning him to a slab of concrete, wrist on his neck. Roaring in triumph, the Baron raised his blades to Emery's neck, preparing to slice. Before this could happen, however, a third blade swung up from below, knocking the Baron's own from Emerys' neck and then slashing across, breaking one of the blades in half. Orri then grabbed the Baron by the neck and threw him away from Emerys into a crater in the road. Emerys took to his feet, grabbing Orri by the collar. "The next time I want help, I'll fucking ask for it, RIGHT?!" Emerys yelled, shoving Orri away from him as he drew his own shortsword. "I swear to god I'm getting real tired of this shit!" Emerys said as he turned to face the Baron.

However, the Baron was having none of it, and, infuriated by the denial of his victory, charged Orri instead. Orri smiled, a strange, insane sort of smile, before engaging the Baron with her own blade. This was clearly no ordinary Baron–he was more than holding his own against the Hadium edge of Orri's sword, and arguably winning. However, no sign of frustration was present on Orri's face, only the same, deranged smile that the duel began with. After a series of blocked strikes from Orri, the Baron parried the next swing, and in the split instant her guard was open, shoved his shock blade straight into her gut.

Orri spasmed once, a look of surprise crossing her face briefly before looking the Baron straight in the eyes, and speaking.

"You would have made an excellent Vega, my friend–shame it had to end like this…"

The Baron laughed triumphantly. He would be made Archon for this victory. Honor and glory for his House. Then Orri started laughing, too. Blood dripped from the sword in her gut, painting the ground around her crimson. Orri's laughter gradually gained volume, becoming truly hysterical, before she twisted herself, breaking the sword from his grip and ramming her own through his head, and thrashing aside, effectively splitting his head in half.

A long silence followed. Orri stood next to the half-decapitated Baron and looked down at him, his sword still inside her. Then she looked up at Emerys, and laughed once.

"Good fight, eh?" Emerys simply stared her down with a cold gaze, before turning to the 508th Baron behind him. "That's the last time we let **them** get involved–make sure to mention that to the Kell."

"I should have just let him decapitate you."

Emerys stopped in his tracks, laughing quietly as he quickly turned towards Orri and launched his shortsword at her–narrowly missing her as it hit a Vandal a good distance away. "He wouldn't have had the fuckin' chance, love."

"Yes, and I took a sword through my stomach for your ungrateful ass. Maybe I shouldn't be so helpful next time."

"Don't be then–you've made it abundantly clear to me that you can't stick it in hand-to-hand with a Baron–you only survived because you're a Guardian. Not to mention I specifically didn't want you to come for the sheer fact that it would only complicate the structure of the plan. Yes–the Walker is down and we have the Blades on the run, but we could've gained ourselves a valuable prisoner as well," Emerys said, pointing to the morbidly deformed corpse of the Baron. He walked past Orri and retrieved his sword from the body of the Vandal, before walking right past her again.

"So much for gratitude–normally where I come from people thank each other when they save each other's lives!"

"Well–where I come from people tend to follow conduct and don't have the ability to revive themselves. Take that into consideration before you go fucking up the next plan!"

"Oh, I'm on trial for being a Guardian–and that's all that fucking matters to you, isn't it? I represent something you don't like, and so everything I do to try to help is just taken the wrong way. Is everything I fucking do a crime against you? Real fucking immature for someone of your obvious talent."

"Just fucking try me, you imbecilic arsewipe. Try what I've done, try the pressure that was put on me and everything I've gone through, all while knowing that the people I've had to motivate, lead and bury weren't fucking immortal unlike you and the rest of your damned order. Fine–you might see me as immature and ignorant, but get a sense of fucking perspective before you decide to criticise me for my opinion," Emerys spat in retort, putting his helmet back on and putting his cloak back on, picking up his rifle and ordering his team forward as they walked past Orri.

"Oh, I have one, alright–and we aren't as immortal as you might think. I saw you looking at this rifle-" She picked the large black rifle up off the ground where it lay. "Do you know what this is? Do you know where it came from?"

"No–and I don't really care either. A warrior picks their tools for fighting, not for bragging about how well they fight. Now if you'll excuse me, I've really got to be going–I have a deadline to meet and I don't intend on giving the Fallen another chance at laying siege to Long Island again."

"I didn't pick this. It was forced upon me. It isn't a bragging right, it is a curse. This is the Black Spindle. You may have fought the Hive before, but you have never truly battled them. I battled them in their own hole, and nearly succeeded. Just before the Witch-mother died she summoned this weapon from another dimension and bound it to me. You heard the voices, I can tell. I hear them all the time. Constantly driving my savagery. I don't know how long it will be before I either succumb or go completely insane, but I intend to use the time I have. This sword through my gut - I feel it all. All the pain. I'm not invincible. I'm not as fucking immortal as you think I am. Now, I have a favor to ask–one I think you'll quite enjoy."

"Make it quick then–I don't know if you've noticed but there's a, uh, I dunno–a FUCKING WAR GOING ON?! Hurry the fuck up!"

"Pull the sword out."

Emerys, though slow to respond, walked quickly over to Orri, gripping the sword with both hands and wrenching it out with little bother, then tossing it into the water below. Orri didn't even bat an eyelid. Blood now flowed freely from the wound, staining her black robes even darker.

"Feel better? Hope you do. Ghost, don't heal that–I've got something to prove."

"No–you don't. You're holding up everything we're doing, all for the sake of showing off how much of a prick you are. I don't know about the rest of my team–or yours for that matter–but I think it's about time we start thinking about advancing. Ramsay said he'd send one of our Berserkers supported by a mechanized platoon of Hounds, and I intend to have the Fallen on the run by the time they cross over. I'll be damned if I'm going to sit around and let you show off!"

Emerys walked over to the corpse of the commando, staring at the face of a middle-aged man with little facial hair, his expression frozen in shock from having two shock blades put through him. Wiping his brow of the dirt on the commando's face, Emerys removed his unique Titan Mark, his dogtags and closed his eyes, before carrying the commando's body to a nearby car wreck and laying him down. Emerys reached up to his helmet's earpiece on the side and spoke "HQ, this is Commander Townsend, we've got a man down on Brooklyn bridge, one times killed in action. Need a corpsman down here, now." A few seconds passed, before Emerys spoke again. "Copy that, send them across. What's the status on the bomb?"

"...HQ? Come in–HQ, do you read me?"

The 508th Baron finally spoke, after remaining near-silent throughout the whole battle. "Comms down, Rook. Same with Dregs."

"Any known cause?"

"None currently–" Suddenly, a massive Fallen Ketch shot out of slipspace in the skies above them, bearing the Blades Banner as it towered over them. Immediately, the entirety of the anti-aircraft stations on Long Island opened fire at the Ketch as the fire–though very minute in comparison to the harm it was receiving–was returned. "Fuck–that Ketch must have a jammer onboard. If that thing starts offloading skiffs into Long Island we're in big trouble. We need to take it down!"

"On it," Orri said, diverting her attention away from the gaping hole in her chest. Summoning her Ghost, she called her ship down to ground level.

"No, Orri! It's too much of a risk. If you so much as even think of playing hero again I will order those batteries to gun you down! Understand?!"

Orri looked straight into Emerys' eyes, her own burning, and with a voice dripping with unbridled rage and contempt, said, "Surprising amount of care for someone you hate. Go ahead. Shoot me down. I'm a Guardian, remember? I know nothing of risk or sacrifice." With this said she jumped into the cockpit and blasted from the bridge at full throttle, barreling towards the Ketch.

Harchek looked to the rapidly-disappearing ship and chuckled. "Craziest Warlock I've ever seen…"

He turned to Emerys. "Well? Are you going to be a man of your word? Are you going to blow her out of the sky?"  
Emerys sighed and reached up to his earpiece again. "Triple-A batteries, this is Townsend, inbound target objective–Guardian ship approaching the Ketch. Fire to disable, not kill. Fire to disable, not kill. Open up."

Aboard Orri's ship, numerous missile warnings suddenly pinged all at once, indicating imminent destruction. Orri smirked–at least he was a man of his word. The warnings became progressively louder, flak cannons rattling the air around her, and as a missile hit the wing of her ship, she ejected right next to the Ketch, throwing her Nova Bomb into a weak portion of the hull, and blinking into the resulting hole in the ship.

Back on the ground, Emerys–though on the verge of losing his composure due to Orri's insubordination under his command–decided not to worry about her for now–the Ketch was the only real problem.

"Sir–our spotters reported that the Guardian ejected from the ship just seconds after impact, and that she was able to get into the Ketch. Orders, sir?" Emerys took a few seconds to respond, but when he did, he wasn't as angry as before, more stressed than anything. "Get the armored platoon across the bridge and secure a new hardpoint for our forces. Regulate troop movements every half an hour."

"What about the Guardian, sir-"

"Fuck the Guardian–resume fire on the Ketch. She knew she was taking a risk and she's gone well beyond insubordination. Destroy the Ketch–whether the Guardian is on it or not." Emerys growled.

After a few tense minutes, during which the Ketch was becoming steadily less spaceworthy, the comms across the island quite literally roared to life. Frei Vel'ryata instantly caught Emerys' earpiece.

"Emerys! Odd readings from Ketch core. Almost critical. Rigged to blow, may be last-ditch attempt to destroy. Khan is there, yes?"

"Unfortunately for you, yes–she is. The only alternative to destroying the Ketch before the core blows over the city is to take it to a higher altitude and disable it's power reactors–it's core won't blow but with the right positioning I can probably land it in the center of Jersey City–right on top of the Blades' closest base."

"Why not Khan? Is she not able pilot?"

"Not for a Fallen Ketch. There's only one person in this city who can override any Servitor protocols on a Ketch and pilot the damn thing after the Servitor is destroyed, and you're talking to him. Ready one of your skiffs, Vel'ryata–I'm getting onboard that ship."

"Such a task is suicide, Emerys! You cannot do this!"

"Your point…?"

Shocked, Vel'ryata pulled rank on Emerys, "We are alliance, Emerys. You will not die on behalf of the rest of us. Will stop you myself if necessary."

"Good luck. You'll need it. For dead men will never come back, Kell. Stand forever, Frei Vel'ryata. Goodbye."

A strange, garbled transmission from the Ketch broke the silence, a voice unmistakably Orri's, but warped into an intense, almost psychotically shrill tone.

"Ruairidh, I think it's high time you put some trust in me."

The Ketch suddenly froze in place, creaking under the combined stress of stopping so suddenly and extensive damage. From the bridge, Emerys could see a bright purple glow lighting the Ketch's viewing windows from the inside. Vel'ryata also noted this over comms.

"Ketch power is cut. What is happening...?"

Orri, obviously monitoring the comms, replied. "To obtain Servitor protocol, you must become Servitor."

Harchek's Ghost answered Emerys' obvious questions about Orri's cryptic statement. "She...she connected herself to the Ketch. Somehow overrode the Pilot Servitor's control. Which means that, in all essence, she...is the Pilot Servitor now. The closest comparison I can draw is the act of Oryx Taking something. I'm also detecting that she's very close to death..."

"There's something else in that woman. Something else driving her. I don't know what it is, but it's definitely not the Light," Vayra mused.

Emerys stood, legitimately concerned about what may happen to Orri–Guardian or not, she was a remarkable fighter, even if she wasn't the best at following orders. He may've loathed the Guardians and the Vanguard, but he wasn't even remotely hateful enough to ignore Orri's skill. "HQ, prepare a Vulture VTOL with crew–head for the Ketch and stay within its perimeter." Emerys said as he tore his armor, helmet and weapons from his body, leaving only him in his shirt, boots and trousers along with his personal sidearm, sprinting down the other end of the bridge towards the city as tanks and armored cars passed him. He headed inside a particularly large building and ran all the way up it's flights of stairs before arriving at a helipad, where his VTOL was waiting. Without question, the crew closed the ramp of the VTOL as Emerys boarded it, before taking off, narrowly escaping the pursuing Vega Kell. Vel'ryata cursed him in Eliksni, firing at the VTOL with her shrapnel launcher as it rose toward the Ketch. As the VTOL reached the starboard side, Emerys lowered the ramp and lept onto the top of the Ketch, moving stealthily along the top until he reached the bridge of the ship, shooting out the glass and jumping through.

What greeted his eyes was like something out of a nightmare. Two bright purple tether-like ropes of Void Light extended from either side of the room, connecting to the wall and fanning out across the entire bridge. The corpses of Blade Fallen littered the floor, most either dismembered or charred beyond recognition. The wreckage of a Pilot Servitor lay strewn about. In the center platform, where the Pilot Servitor would have been, was Orri, the ropes of Void energy connected to her arms and swirling around her. Her robes were in tatters, helmet cracked, bloodstains on every conceivable surface of her armor, both human and Fallen. Her sword was discarded in the back of its last victim, a Captain whose body occasionally twitched from the electricity coursing through it from the blade. The gaping wound the Devil Baron gave her remained, not leaking blood anymore but nonetheless there. Other wounds on her arms and legs replaced that, many of them horrifically large. Her expression was one of massive strain and fatigue. The Ketch was without any form of power, and upon realizing this, it dawned upon Emerys that Orri was literally holding the entire Ketch in the air by sheer force of her Light and will. And then there were her eyes. They practically blazed with purple-white energy, often to the point that Emerys couldn't see her irises anymore. The Void ropes twisted and coiled around her form as if they were alive. She looked towards where Emerys stood, and grinned, laughing slightly.

"Pilot Servitor K-Khan Prime, at...your...s-service." Her voice was strained, like the very act of speech was about to put her past her limit.

Emerys was rarely at a loss for words, but this scene of destruction and display of power on Orri's part left him speechless. He had seen never seen any living thing suffer such grievous bodily harm as this and still stand, if only one other. Even though Guardians were technically dead, he hadn't even seen Titans sustain this amount of punishment and not be screaming in agony after the fact. Yet here Orri stood, breathing heavily, but giving no semblance of pain in her expression, only the fatigue and strain of a battle-worn soldier.

Emerys finally found his voice. "How the fucking hell…"

"Set...c-coordinates...J-Jersey City." As she said this, a single console lit up, glowing with the same purple-white light, displaying Eliksni text.

Orri's Ghost floated over to Emerys, saying nothing, but looking towards the active console expectantly, as if asking him to do as Orri asked. Emerys shrugged, and walked over to the console, pressing a few buttons, entering the coordinates for where he knew the bulk of the Blade force to be. Once this was done, the console beeped once and went out.

Orri, however, stood up a little straighter and narrowed her burning eyes, as if focusing, before finally uttering a final phrase.

"Coordinates...received."

With a great roar, she threw her left arm to the side, causing the Void ropes to flail wildly. The entire ship lurched in the direction of her movements, slowly moving towards the chosen waypoint. Emerys suddenly realized that if the AA batteries didn't let up, the Ketch wouldn't survive the course to Jersey, and this whole plan would be a waste.

"All triple-A stations, ceasefire, ceasefire! Ketch is no longer a threat. Repeat, ceasefire! Ketch neutralized."

The hammering of the Ketch's hull ceased, and the entire ship was completely silent. It moved through the sky like a million-ton ghost, making no sound of any kind associated with a Ketch's arrival. Emerys walked over to Orri, attempting to communicate with her. "Orri–we need to go, now." Orri didn't respond, maintaining the same stance as she always had since Emerys entered the bridge. "Orri, this thing is about to crash into Jersey City and it's loaded with armed explosives, you need to go!". Suddenly a thought crossed Emerys' head–she was basically hooked up to the Ketch's mainframe and was the only thing keeping it in the air without need for physical tampering with its systems–the minute they left, the Ketch would simply spiral out of control, probably reactivating its core and as such blowing half the state into oblivion. Emerys tried to physically pull Orri away, only to be met with a void shock as he was hurled across the room. "SHIT! Aggghhh, fucking Warlocks–bloody space wizards more like."

Orri's Ghost floated over to him, and explained. "She isn't going anywhere. Summon the VTOL and get out of here–I'll find her after it's done. She knows what she's doing."

Emerys simply sighed, turning his back and heading for the door, stopping just at it's edge.

"No, she doesn't," Emery said as he drew his sidearm and shot through Orri's shield, before firing again and incapacitating her as she collapsed to the ground, unconscious. As her Ghost disappeared, the Ketch rumbled and creaked as it started to regain its power. The displays and screens flashed red as hundreds of alert signs came up. Quickly, Emerys' Ghost materialized in thin air. "Ghost, bring up a control schematic of the ship's systems. Disable the core's cooling systems. Absolute zero percent."

"Rook, that'll detonate the Ketch for sure!"

"-disable the systems once we get to Jersey. Give me full control of its atmospheric propulsion and flight systems. Open up all comms and systems linked to the WarCom–I want the troops to hear this." Emerys said as he punched a code into the terminal. "I'm sorry about this, Orri. Echo Four, this is Townsend, I need you to send down a retrieval wire on the bridge. It's for the Guardian–I'm staying behind."

"Copy that sir–we're coming around now." The pilot of the Vulture said as the aircraft drifted over the bridge, releasing a harness linked to a wire from the side of the aircraft. Carrying Orri on his back, Emerys made his way over to the harness and strapped her in, signalling to the aircraft to reel her up. As they did so, Emerys returned to the bridge's terminal and took control of the Ketch, a couple of minutes passed before he started broadcasting a message across the WarCom. "Valiant soldiers of the 508th Brigade and House Vega, this is Commander Ruairidh Townsend. The Ketch over the city has been stopped. But only temporarily. In order to prevent any more casualties, I must pilot the Ketch over Jersey City and crash it. This will almost certainly mean my death. But fear not, my brothers–for our alliance has a proud history. Since it's creation, we have led every major confrontation in which humanity has been involved. You men are credit to that fine heritage and I'm sorry to say goodbye to each and every one of you. But you've served humanity well, and you displayed the ability to fight on to the Brigade's objective and complete its mission–never leaving behind a fallen comrade no matter what the odds or the enemy. I thank you–humanity should thank you, and I wish you luck wherever you go. And remember–all odds are against us, yet here we stand, and we shall stand forever!" With this one final speech, Emerys dropped all communications and took control of the Ketch, sending it into full speed as it shot into high altitude.

Aboard the Ketch, Emerys calmly manned the controls, piloting the self-destructing starship as well as the damaged systems would allow, steering it towards Jersey City. The Ketch protested every movement, rumbling and trembling dangerously. Alarms upon alarms upon alarms screamed for attention, but Emerys stayed at the pilot's position, the Jersey skyline growing steadily larger. The sun cast long shadows over the city ruins, creating areas where the lights of the Blades forward-operations camp could be seen in the shadows of the derelict skyscrapers.

"Bingo…"

He steered the floundering Ketch towards the lights, pointing the pointed nose of the ship directly towards them, increasing the speed to as fast as possible without causing the core to detonate prematurely.

Now, the Blades may have been woefully unskilled and foolish, but they were not completely oblivious. They knew full well their Ketch was in enemy hands, and thus did everything in their power to mitigate the damage that could be done. Twenty anti-aircraft Walkers swiveled their cannons toward the flaming Ketch, twenty laser sights bore down upon it, and twenty cannons all fired simultaneously.

As twenty artillery shells hit the already severely-damaged Ketch, the resulting force from the return fire finally cause the ship to break apart, splitting into four large pieces, each blazing with exotic colors of fire and plasma. The core lost all power once again, but by this point the Ketch had too much momentum to be stopped. The pointed nose of the ship broke from the bridge, flying towards the camp like hundred thousand-ton arrowhead. The engines and the back of the Ketch broke off in another chunk, and finally the entire bridge separated from the body, lagging behind the rest of the ship due to the lost momentum, finally falling short of the shore, crashing into the ocean. Then the body of the Ketch collided with the land, and a blinding flash of light followed as the explosives in the cargo hold detonated.


End file.
